The Parable of the Lost Sheep“What do you think? If a man owns a hundred sheep, and one of them wanders away, will he not leave the ninety-nine on the hills and go to look for the one that wandered off? And if he finds it, I tell you the truth, he is happier about that one sheep than about the ninety-nine that did not wander off. In the same way your Father in heaven is not willing that any of these little ones should be lost.
Matthew 18:12-14
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Then Jesus told them this parable: “Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’ I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.
Luke 15:3-7
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Leafing through a binder where I keep poems and quotes I have collected, I remembered this poem that always touched my heart.
How we love our children and want nothing more for them to be walking in the Truth.
I am thankful God hears our prayers for our children and lovingly woos them to Himself.
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I was but a youth and thoughtless,
As all youths are apt to be;
Though I had a Christian Mother
Who had taught me carefully.
There came a time when pleasure
Of the world came to allure,
And I no more sought the guidance
Of her love so good and pure.
Her tender admonitions fell
But lightly on my ear,
And for the gentle warnings
I felt an inward sneer.
But Mother would not yield her boy
To Satan’s sinful sway,
And though I spurned her counsel
She knew a better way.
She made my room an altar,
A place of secret prayer,
And there she took her burden
And left it in His care.
And morning, noon and evening
By that humble bedside low,
She sought the aid of Him who
Understands a Mother’s woe.
And I went my way unheeding,
Careless of the life I led,
Until one day I noticed
Prints of elbows on my bed.
Then I saw that she had been there
Praying for her wayward boy,
Who for love of worldly pleasure
Would her peace of mind destroy.
Long the conflict raged within me,
Sin against my Mother’s prayers,
Sin must yield – for Mother never
While she daily met Him there.
And her constant love and patience
Were like coals upon my head,
Together with the imprints
Of her elbows on my bed.
And so at last the fight was won,
And I to Christ was led,
And Mother’s prayers were answered
